Cursed to be Human
by KaraokePrime
Summary: Rose was found injured, remembering nothing but her name. When an alien robot saves her from something called a Decepticon, she learns that she is not a part of the human world and was never meant to be, but was instead taken from the robot world. Can she escape her human form and take back her rightful place among these aliens?
1. Amnesia

_They could have loved. But that never happened. Her memories and her very identity were gone. Now, it will take love to remember. But how can you love when you can't remember?_

* * *

The sirens were the first thing I heard, panic the first I saw. It was utter confusion. Pavement underneath me, shoes next to me, too much to take in all at once. I thought someone said something to me, but I couldn't be sure. Pain shot through my body as I was lifted into an ambulance, and darkness enveloped me once again.

I woke once more in a brightly lit hospital room. A nurse smiled at me.

"You gave us quite a scare, hun," She remarked. "You feelin' okay?" I nodded. "What's your name?" she asked. What was my name? Wait, isn't it a bad thing when one forgets their own name? For that matter, I couldn't remember anything. I got the feeling that I shouldn't even be here, and that this human was not my kin, nor any people similar to her.

She looked concerned when I didn't have an answer. She picked up a small device and talked into it. "Uh, Dr. Swank, she doesn't know her own name. Isn't that a bit of a problem?"

I shifted under the soft blankets. I watched as a lock of straight, chocolate brown hair fell over her eyes of approximately the same color. A sound came out of the device, but she was on the other side of the room. I could tell it was a voice, but I could make out no words. She smiled at me.

"Your doctor will be here in just a moment." The door swung open, and the man I assumed to be Dr. Swank walked in. He was wearing a white lab coat with a blue shirt and blue pants, and was holding a clipboard. He had short blond hair and light blue eyes that were filled with mischief.

"Hello," he said politely. "So it appears you have a bit of amnesia." I nodded. "Is there anything you can remember?" I shook my head. I would have replied verbally, but my throat was dry. Thankfully, he set a glass of water down on the table next to my bed. I drank it all.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me," said Dr. Swank. "Someone found you lying wounded in an alley. You seriously can't remember anything?" I scoured my brain for clues. Could I remember? I searched the shattered fragments of my mind. Just as I was about to say I couldn't, something forced its way out of the murky puddle that was my memories.

"Rose," I blurted. "I think...I think my name is Rose." beamed, clearly pleased that we had somehow already made progress. He scribbled something at the top of his clipboard. He pondered something, then wrote again, further down the page.

"Well, Rose," he said, "I bet you're hungry. You should get something to eat, along with some more rest, and I will see you again soon!" He walked out of the room, and the nurse came over with a tray. It had chicken, jello, juice, and a little piece of pie. I wolfed it all down. Before I knew it, I was asleep again.

Days went by, until one day, my nurse came in and announced that they were going to try some exercises to see if I could jog my memory a bit. We went into a room where a therapist did a bunch of stuff including an exercise where you have do visualize certain things and blah, blah, blah... Anyhow, they didn't work a bit. I went back to my room and was told we would try tomorrow.

This went on for a few more days. They had put things around on the internet, looking for a parent or legal guardian. No one showed up. It was determined that I was about 16 years old, and, of course, I couldn't remember this fact either. Between days, I had vivid dreams, but I couldn't remember any of them once I woke up. I sensed they were very important, but my brain obviously didn't think that, as they had always vanished from memory by morning.

Eventually, I was put into a foster home after I had become well enough to leave the hospital. The peoples' names were Mary and Robert Phillips, and they had one child named Elise. Mrs. Phillips had straight blond hair, while Mr. Phillips had a brown crew cut, and both had emerald green eyes. Elise had a blond pixie cut and the same eyes as her parents. I guessed her to be around 13 years old.

"Hi there!" Mrs. Phillips greeted, shaking my hand. The other two did the same. They all seemed to have just the slightest hint of a British accent. We were at their house, a spacious condominium in Florida, right next to the beach. "Make yourself right at home," continued Mrs. Phillips, "there's clothes in the closet, a toothbrush by the sink for you, and if you need anything, just ask!" She seemed very happy to have me staying with them. I headed to the back room, where, as promised, there was a closet and a sink complete with a toothbrush and toothpaste. After brushing my teeth, I got dressed. I picked a simple blue knee-length dress and purple Vans with black laces. I studied myself in the mirror. I was average size, maybe a little tall, and I looked healthy enough. Short red curls framed a pale face, and sapphire blue eyes stared back at me. I walked away, ready to see what he world had in store.

As it turned out, the world of Florida had a lot of seafood in store. I had shrimp Alfredo for dinner, and the family ended up talking more than eating. Over the next few weeks, I would figure out that this was an extremely talkative family. They talked about work, school, the weather, favorite TV shows, you name it. I talked a lot less than they did, but they made up for it. We went shopping, swimming, surfing, building sandcastles, and a bunch of other fun Florida stuff, and I started to enjoy living with the family. Elise and I became good friends, and I would start school in a week, as this just happened to be near the end of summer vacation.

Just my luck, it all fell apart when death broke down our door.


	2. Not So Human After All

**Woohoo, chapter 1 is done! Alright, chapter 2!**

 **I forgot to add any sort of author's note in chapter 1, so I'll do that now.**

 **I do not own Transformers or any of its characters, only the story and my OCs.**

 **The story is set right after AOE, in an alternate dimension where Lockdown never mentions the creators, and therefore Optimus Prime never leaves.**

 **Yes, Bumblebee still talks through the radio.**

 **I have no idea how often I'll be able to edit, so it will be varied.**

 **Welp... Time for chapter 2, hopefully it is more exciting than the last chapter, feel free to criticize.**

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When I mean death, I don't mean a hooded black figure holding a scythe or something like that. I may have exaggerated just a bit. It was actually an explosion followed by a large metal hand smashing a portion of the wall to bits. Elise screamed. It just so happened that Elise and I were home alone, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips getting groceries, saying to lock the door and don't let any alien robots in. Locking a door would not keep giant alien hands out, though.

Anyway, after Elise was done screaming, she grabbed my hand and led me to the back room. Surprisingly, instead of hiding, she opened the window. We were two stories up, but that didn't keep her from climbing onto the sill and motioning for me to do the same. There was a small hook on the outside of the window with a rope attached. We both slid down, then ran furiously to... a bush. Yay. Another surprise, she lifted the bush, revealing a small door in the sand. We then climbed down an ancient ladder into a basement-looking room. She unlocked a safe and handed me a gun, two more in her hands. She opened her mouth to explain, but a huge pounding on the ceiling interrupted her. Probably the alien robot.

"This was our safety plan," Elise explained hurriedly, "We set it up shortly after Chicago." I nodded. The family had told me all about the alien incidents that have been going on for quite a while now. "The roof probably won't last much longer," she continued after another bang shook the room and made dust from the ceiling fall to the floor. "I hope you know how to shoot."

"I do," I replied, somehow knowing it was true. At that moment, the ceiling did, in fact, collapse. We had been far enough to the side that we didn't get crushed, but we still had the alien to deal with. Instinct told me to aim for its eyes and the small sliver of light emanating from its chest, so I did just that. First, I went for the eyes, but all that did was make it angrier. I then went for the chest, and it slowed it down, but even with the combined effort of Elise and I, it wasn't enough.

It raised its arm... no... cannon, and we would have died right then and there if a black and yellow figure hadn't come up from behind and ripped the cannon off. It was another alien, but this one seemed to be fighting against the other one. At the back of my mind, something about the yellow one seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. He proceeded to blast a hole in the other's chest and rip its head off. It fell to the ground, dead.

"Who are you?" asked Elise, eyes wide in a mix, of awe, shock, and fear.

"Bumblebee," he answered, seemingly through the radio, "and I've come for you." He said, pointing to me. Then, I managed to find my voice.

"Me?" I squeaked, "why me? I don't even know you." I had no idea that robots could have advanced facial expressions, but apparently so. When I said that, he looked very sad, but a moment later, it vanished.

"You'll see," was all he said. At that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Phillip's car pulled into the parking lot. Bumblebee motioned for Elise to go to them, then transformed into a yellow Chevy with black racing stripes. A few tears rolled down her cheeks as she ran to her parents, waving goodbye. The car door opened, and I got in. I got to see Elise hug her mom and dad, before we rounded a corner, my short former life fading into the distance.

 _ **Later**_

We arrived on a desolate beach, small and lonely. From behind the large, isolating bushes came four vehicles; two smaller cars-one green, one black and red- a large, camo green colored defense vehicle, and a blue and red semi truck with flames and no trailer. One by one, they transformed. The black and red into what looked like a ninja, the green into a robot with goggles on his head and what seemed to be a cape, the camo one into a robot that was slightly bigger in the midsection, and last but not least, the red and blue one seemed to be the tallest. If robots were muscular, he was very. He came forward. I assumed he was the leader.

"I am Optimus Prime," he said in a deep voice. For some reason, I instantly liked him. No wonder he was the leader. "This is Drift," he continued, pointing at the ninja, "Crosshairs," the green one, "Hound," the one with the larger midsection, "and you've already met Bumblebee." I nodded. They all seemed so familiar, but, again, I couldn't remember. "Can you remember anything from your former life?" Optimus asked.

"Only that you seem vaguely familiar, and that my name is Rose," I replied. Optimus smiled sadly and nodded at that.

"Rose," he said in that deep voice of his, "Would you believe me if I told you that you were once one of us?"

"I don't know... maybe." I remembered back to the feeling I had in the hospital room, the feeling that I was not quite one of these people. "I mean, it makes sense and all, since I can't really remember, but... what happened?" There was that sad smile of his again.

"A small group of Decepticons, along with a few remaining scientists from an organization called KSI. We are known as Autonomous Robotic Organisms, or Autobots for short. The Decepticons are our enemies."

"So, you're saying I'm an alien robot," I repeated, "and I would assume I'm an Autobot?" Optimus nodded. This was all too much to take in. As if Optimus sensed this, he said,

"I think you should get some rest. We have a lot to do, and you have a lot to discover." he transformed into a vehicle, as did the others, and his door opened. I got in. I fell asleep as he drove, wondering, as I often had lately, who I really was, and who I'd become if I could never remember.


	3. Titanium

**Yay! Chapter 3! Ok, now I'm really getting optimistic! Or should I say; Optimus-tic! Alright, I know I'm bad at puns, don't judge. You are talking to the person who thinks her main OC should be an Autobot named Amazon Prime. Again, don't judge.**

 **Anyway, I don't own Transformers or any of its characters, only my OCs and the story...**

 **Ok, I think that covers all the boring legal stuff, now let's get to the fun part! This is my first story, so please don't expect it to be perfect or have an amazing plot with unexpected twists and all that sci-fi stuff where you have to really pay attention and have a good memory to understand it all. I'm doing my best to make it at least mildly entertaining.**

 **I would also appreciate if you left some kind of review, just to let me know how I'm doing, suggestions, that sort of stuff.**

 **Thank you for reading so far!**

* * *

When I woke up, we were next to a small, abandoned house. I got out of the truck, and Optimus transformed. He offered me an apple, and I took it.

"All right, story time!" I declared as I sat on the ground in front of him. The other Autobots were next to him.

"As you know," started Optimus, "You were an Autobot. Your name was not truly Rose, but instead Titanium. You had decided that if you were a human, you would want your name to be Rose. You were captured by a Decepticon named Witchripper, deputy of Galvatron. He took you to what remains of the once-powerful organization called KSI. They had a new experiment they wanted to try out on an Autobot... sadly, you were its first victim. I have no idea how to make you an Autobot again, so for now, we must use what we have. I'm sorry." I stared at him, the half-eaten apple in my hand forgotten.

"So... I'm an alien robot named Titanium, and me being a human is simply the result of an experiment, but you have no idea how to make me a robot again."

"Yeah," said Hound, "that basically sums it up." I frowned, trying to remember anything. Any other life I might have had felt so far away, too far to reach. It was as if Titanium was a completely different person, and the only way to join Titanium me and Rose me together was to remember, which was impossible at the"" moment.

"For human interaction," said Optimus, "you will keep the name Rose." I nodded. It would be wired to go out into public and say your name was Titanium. "We believe it would be better, for now," he continued, "if you went to school. I contacted the Phillips household, and they agreed to let you go to school under their name. The school will have my number as a contact, but they will come for any needed meetings between parents and teachers."

"You have a phone number?"

"Of course"

"What about the fact that your voice sounds nothing like his?"

"We're alien robots," said Crosshairs with a faint accent, "We have advanced alien software. Now's one of those times we get to use it."

"What he means," said Drift with a different accent, probably Chinese or Japanese, "is that we have it covered." I forced a smile.

"Based on your age being about 16 in human years," said Optimus, "you would be a sophomore. Which means you need to study." I frowned. "Don't worry, I assume it won't take long to get you to the proper intellectual level of a person your age, if you're not already." He smiled.

So, for the next week, I studied. It was all surprisingly easy, as if I was an informational sponge. Apparently, my robotic memory was still perfectly intact. I used a small room in the house as a makeshift office. Optimus projected a kind of screen in front of him that I used for an awesome computer. On the day before school, Mrs. Phillips and I went shopping. We met outside a Target, hugging as Bumblebee went to park.

"You're okay with all this alien stuff?" I asked her. She nodded. In a low voice, she said

"My husband used to work for a government agency called NEST. They used to deal with the Autobots. I'm used to it." I smiled. We went inside.

I ended up buying a lot of stuff. Clothes, backpack, school supplies, even a dictionary. She persuaded me into buying a few accessories. She explained to me that when the police arrived at their house and saw the Decepticon, they assumed it had just gone through the condo and the family managed to shoot it down. She said Elise said hi, but was too busy studying last-minute to come.

The next day, school started. They might as well have put a sign up above the front doors saying,

"Welcome to the burning flames of Hell! Enjoy!"


	4. School (Ugh)

**Hey! Sorry about the wait, turns out I won't be able to add on much during the school year. Anyway, I don't own transformers or any of its characters, only my story and my OCs. Please feel free to comment, I would really appreciate some feedback on what I'm doing right and what you want to see more or less of** **in the story. I don't mind criticism, as long as it is helpful and not mean. Thanks for reading, I hope I'm doing okay so far!**

* * *

I hate Mr. Arnold. He is supposed to teach geometry. I like geometry, and that is not what he teaches. He still teaches geometry, but it is geometry for kindergartners...

"Alright class, have a seat," came a cheery voice from the back of the room. He sounded a bit too cheerful. Being a robot, I did not know until later that this was actually how one would talk to a 6 year-old. Either way, I already didn't like him. "Okay class, I am going to pass out folders. These folders contain the work you will do every morning before the bell rings. Now, don't lose these, we wouldn't want anyone to have nothing to do at the start of class!" He bounced to the front of the classroom In a white suit and blue tie. His perfect white teeth shone from his way too happy grin. He had clearly used hair products. He had a tiny Bluetooth earpiece. "Any questions?" There was a very awkward pause as the room tried to digest what they were seeing. I very badly wanted to shout that they were seeing the foreshadowing of a long, hard school year. He looked around the classroom a few seconds too long, smiled just a bit too wide.

"Alright, does anyone know how to find the area of a pentagon?" Most of my peers looked around in confusion, as if they really didn't know how to find the area of a pentagon.

"Are you serious?" I blurted. "I thought this was tenth grade, not fifth!" Everyone turned and stared at me.

"Rose, do you know how to find the area of a pentagon?" Mr. Arnold inquired.

"Of course I do! Who does't! You just pretend it's five separate triangles, find the area of one of them, and multiply by five! Can I skip a few grades or something?" Mr. Arnold frowned a bit for the first time that day. I had heard rumors that he never once stopped smiling from the time he was five.

"Now, just be patient Rose! There are many things you might not know. For example, if we're lucky, we might get to length of an arc by the end of the semester!"

"Measure of the angle over 360 times circumference of the circle!" I scoffed angrily. He seemed baffled for a second, then regained his composure.

"Now, I'm sure you'll be just fine!" His smile was back. Didn't his cheeks hurt? "Won't she, class?" The entire class nodded in unison. I sat silently, scowling. I completed all of my work for the day in half the time everyone else did.

Everyone thinks I'm weird. I'm weird for liking choir and the choir teacher. I'm weird for actually being able to jog an entire mile without stopping. I'm weird for reading instead of playing on my computer. I'm weird for apparently attempting to make friends "the wrong way". I don't like it. When I finished all the assignments in half the time everyone else did, I was sent to the office for the rest of the class period in Social Studies for "rushing". The only good part of the entire day was when a small group of the "smart kids" came over and we discussed various topics at length. Fisher Wolf is nice.

I also hate Brayden Stane. Brayden is annoying and flirtatious, with no respect for personal boundaries. he acts as if he can get whatever he wants. I believe humans call that a big ego. The worst part is that all the other girls swoon over him for no reason.

I had way too much homework for my liking. At the end of the day, I felt I had accomplished nothing. Going home feeling miserable, I asked Optimus if I absolutely had to go to school and explained to him how terrible it had been.

"It is best that you go," he said. "You need to blend in with the humans for as long as it takes us to get you back to normal. That means if we can never change you back, you at least have a life as one of them. Plus, it is a common saying that the first day is always the worst." I scowled, saying nothing else. I did my homework and went to bed. I didn't expect tomorrow to be much better at all.


End file.
